Sunday, October 14, 2012

What Could Be Good About Second Degree Burns?

At the time
it was the most traumatic thing that had ever happened to me; boiling grease
spilled down my front, second degree burns on my left side, searing pain, and
fear of terrible scars. At that time I also thought it was the worst thing that
could ever happen to me. And yet, we can usually find some good it the most
horrible situations.

My cooking
accident occurred when I was in my second year of university in Arizona.
Chanukah was the following day and I was in charge of the first night dinner
for the Jewish student union on campus.I had put roasts into the oven earlier and took them out on my way to an
evening class. Unfortunately, the disposable aluminum pan I had used was not
strong enough, the pan buckled, and the results were that I spent a week in the
university clinic inert on my hospital bed.

With the
exception of myself, the hospital’s overnight clinic was virtually empty. I had
a room to myself but I was not lonely. My roommate and other friends from the
dorm popped in and out on the way to classes. So did many of the students from
the Jewish student union. It wasn’t that I was so popular. The clinic was less
than a five minute walk from the student union and an interesting change of
pace. Besides, the roasts had been delicious and those who had attended the
Chanukah dinner felt the need to show some appreciation. They overdid it a bit,
though, and the head nurse complained to the head of the student union that I
was not getting enough rest.

My best
friend at the university was Avraham, although he went by his secular name then.
Beginning my freshman year the two of us would sit together over a cup of
coffee and a glass of root beer and talk for hours. Sometimes we would go for
long walks. Almost every Friday night would make a Shabbat meal of sorts
together. Every once in a while we would go to the Orthodox community to spend
a full Shabbat with a teacher from the day school and his family.

That teacher
wanted to make a Shabbaton on campus and it had been decided that Shabbat
Chanukah would be the perfect Shabbat. Now I would not be able to participate.
Instead, all alone, I lit both my Chanukah and Shabbat candles in the menorah
and candle holders next to my bed. Although it was somewhat lonely, I was
certain that Avraham would pop in soon to cheer me up.

Truth be
told, during the summer between my first and second years in college my
attitude to Avraham had changed. I wanted more than friendship but was not
willing to risk ruining a friendship by asking for more. And Avraham was
totally oblivious to my change of feelings. He treated me as if I were a sister
he never had.

As my
candles burned lower and lower I began to feel sorrier and sorrier for myself.
Not only did Avraham not come visit, neither did anyone else. Negative energy
took over my thoughts and I was blinking back tears when finally there was a
tap at the door. The teacher and the director of the student union had come to
visit the sick.

I tried to
smile and I tried to be polite but I was sorely disappointed. And then they
told me about the head nurse’s complaint. It was clear to me why Avraham had
not come to see me. I wanted to tell them that there should be an exception
made for him but I was too embarrassed to do so. What reason could I give? He
had a girlfriend; I was just a friend.

Unbeknown to
me Avraham’s emotions were similar to mine. When the director had made his
announcement of no visitors for me Avraham had wanted to object. However, just
like I could not give a reason for him to be excluded from the ban, neither
could he. That was his wake-up call.

He broke up
with his girlfriend shortly thereafter. There were subtle changes in the way he
spoke to me. He even asked me out on a “date”. I wondered what it all meant.

Meanwhile my
burns were healing nicely. The itching had stopped and the red was fading. It
looked like I would only have one small, hidden scar. I was very grateful to
HaShem and, along with Avraham, began going more and more to the Orthodox community
for Shabbat.

It was after
lunch on Shabbat HaGadol that Avraham asked me to go for a walk. On that
walk he asked me to marry him. Obviously I agreed. It was then that I began to
understand that my traumatic experience had set the wheels in motion for one of
the happiest moments of my life.Yes,
there is usually something good in the most horrible situations.

Aim of Blog

Emunah, faith in God, does not mean believing only good things will happen; it means believing that whatever God does is for the best. I wrote these words at a time when drive-by shootings and suicide bombers had become almost weekly, if not daily, tragedies. Now, more than ten years later, the words are no less true. Whatever HaShem does is for the best. It is my hope to post articles, advice, and homey stories everyweekwhich will reinforce this fact. And now, a special thanks to:

Batya Medad, my neighbor and experienced blogger. Without her I would never have been able to set up

About Me

Born in Wichita, Kansas, I became a Baalat Teshuva, newly religious, in Phoenix, Arizona while attending ASU. After twelve years of marriage my husband and I made Aliyah with five children and settled in Shilo in the heart of Israel. Two more children joined the family as have daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, Baruch HaShem. My favorite past times are learning, sewing, hiking, reading, cooking, baking, enjoying my family and friends, and, of course, writing. My first novel, Sondra’s Search, was published in 2007 and I am working on the sequel.